The Road to Paris: A Story of Adventure

by Robert Neilson Stephens

  CHAPTER XI.

  THREE WHIMSICAL GENTLEMEN AND A BEAUTIFUL LADY.

  Under the protection of the maid-servant, who was mature and fat, DickWetheral was allowed to slumber till the afternoon. He awoke entirelyrefreshed, and, after a curious look through his small window at thesnow-covered little town with its picturesque church spire, he went downto the kitchen, and in a corner thereof he satisfied a prodigiousappetite; upon which he felt himself in excellent physical condition.His slight flesh-wound, received at Quebec, had healed on hissea-voyage, thanks to the persistent health of his blood, and despitethe badness of other circumstances.

  He walked but twelve miles that day, arriving after nightfall atLiskeard, and lodging till morning at an inn near the handsome Gothicchurch of St. Martin. When he came to pay his bill he found it took allhis money but a few pence, and thus he set forth, on the first day ofthe year 1776, bound eastward, with empty pockets, friendless in astrange and hostile land, with no fixed intention save the vague one ofeventually returning to fight for his country, with no present plan saveto keep moving on.

  Not seeking food once during a journey of seventeen miles, he finallycrossed the Tamer, from Cornwall into Devonshire, and arrived atTavistock with less curiosity to view the vestiges of the tenth centuryabbey there, than to learn where his dinner was to come from. He haddecided to beg, if necessary; he considered that his own people, as wasthe custom of his country, entertained freely every hungry or rooflessman that came to their home in the wilderness, therefore somehospitality was due him from the world at large; and he reasoned that,being now among a hostile people, whose government was responsible forhis present situation, he was morally entitled, without reproach, towhatever he could, in the name of charity, obtain from that people.Profiting by some of Tom MacAlister's related experiences, he hadbethought himself, on the road, of certain possible methods ofovercoming charity's coyness.

  The first door at which he knocked, in Tavistock, was promptly shut inhis face, by a man who blurted out something about rogues and vagabonds,and ere Dick's civil greeting was finished. At the next house a frowningold woman was equally inhospitable. But at the third, the cottage of aserge-weaver, the young girl who opened the door allowed her soft eyesto rest on Dick before making a move to close it, and Dick improved themoment to assure her that he was no common rogue and vagabond, but anhonest teller of fortunes by cards, who saw already in her face thesigns of a great surprise in her own immediate future. The girl openedthe door wider, and Dick stepped in with such a courteous bow to the twoother occupants of the room that they rose instinctively to receive him,blinded to his garb by his gentlemanly bearing. It was meal-time, andthe family at table consisted of father, mother, and the girl who hadopened the door.

  Dick lost no time, but asked for a pack of cards, with such a smile, andso much as if the request were the most natural one possible, that themother told the girl where the cards were, and the girl immediatelybrought them. Dick began by telling the fortune of the head of thehouse, who was so diverted with the prediction of a gift from a darkman, that Dick's invention was allowed full exercise regarding thefuture destiny of each member of the family. The mother then speaking ofa dream she had recently had, Dick promptly offered to interpret it forher, and its meaning was so favorable that the interpreter was soon inthe way to gorge himself with beef and ale. He then did some card tricksthat Tom had taught him, and, perceiving that a pack of cards wouldthereafter be a useful implement to him, eventually won the cardsthemselves, on a bet as to the location of a certain one of them. Havingfound that his card tricks amused, he resolved to rely on themthereafter, and not to stoop again to fortune-telling, an old woman'sbusiness adopted by him for the once as most likely means of excitingthe girl's curiosity.

  He went from the weaver's house to the inn hard by the church of St.Eustache, and, obtaining a friendly reception by the conciliating mannerand flattering air with which he accosted the servants, passed theafternoon in manipulating the cards, to the mystification of kitchenwenches, ostlers, and tipplers of low degree; winning a few sixpencesfrom the last named in a fair game of skill. He thus earned a supper ina kitchen, and a bed in the stable-loft.

  The next day he walked twenty-one miles, crossing Dartmoor Forest andthe vast common, doing card tricks for a meal in a farmer's cottage ateach one of two villages, and lodging for the night at MoretonHampstead, where his procedure at the inn was in general similar to thatat Tavistock.

  In the morning he went on to Exeter, which--with its antique houses, itssplendid cathedral of St. Peter flanked by the old bishop's palace, itsruined castle of West Saxon kings, its bustling High Street, its bridgeacross the Exe, and its busy quay--impressed Dick the more for its beingthe first large town of England to greet his eyes. He remained heremany days, going from inn-yard to inn-yard, and, in the poorer quarters,from house to house; always with an address so polite and amiable thatfew resisted or distrusted him. His look and manner were so differentfrom those of the common wayfarer or mountebank that he found he needstand in no fear of being dealt with as a vagrant. He added to hisresources some of Tom's old conjuring feats, which he made new by meansof the glib, humorous speeches he was soon able to rattle off. A causeof his prolonged stay at Exeter was the great snowfall and frost, whichbegan January 7th, with a high eastern wind, froze the rivers, and putto shame all recollections of cold weather that dated since thememorable hard winter of 1739-40. Dick spent most of this time inentertaining snow-bound travellers of low degree, at the inns, receivingin payment now a meal, now a share of a bed, now a few small coins.There were nights, though, when he lodged outside, taking short naps insome sheltering angle of the cathedral, and rousing himself at intervalsto stir his blood by walking.

  On the 2d of February the wind changed and blew from the south. Waitinga few days more, so as to be less inconvenienced by the thaw, Dickstarted northward, passing through a beautiful country partly in sightof the Exe, dined at Collumpton, and proceeded in the afternoon toWellington in Somersetshire, where he lay for the night in an open shedappertaining to the inn. The next morning, paying for breakfast with thelast of the coins he had earned at Exeter, he went on to the sweet valeof Taunton Dean, and arrived penniless at the town of Taunton, where asingular thing befell him.

  He had stopped to look into an inn-yard, to see whether the time waspropitious for his obtaining the attention of servants and inferiorguests, and thus for his paving the way to one of his unlicensedperformances, when a post-chaise drove up and let out a richly dressedyoung gentleman, with a portmanteau and a gold-headed cane, but notattended by any private servant.

  As he was about to enter the inn, this young gentleman, who was of asedate and self-contained demeanor, stopped for a moment, regarded Dickwith a sudden but civil interest, and half perceptibly smiled; he thenpassed in, while a menial shouldered his portmanteau and followed.

  Dick knew at once the cause of the look of interest and of the smile. Hewas still pondering on it when, a few minutes later, the gentleman cameout of the inn, greeted him with most kindly condescension, and said, ina quiet tone, while making sure by swift side-glances that no oneoverheard:

  "My good man, I see you, too, have noticed how much we look like eachother."

  "In the face, yes," replied Dick; "but not as much in the clothes."

  "Quite true," said the gentleman, with an appreciative smile. "I wasjust about to speak of that. As I looked at you and noticed theresemblance between us, I couldn't but think how different everythingwould be to me if I were the man in the smock-frock and you were the manin the velvet coat. And then an odd idea came into my head. Said I tomyself, 'Why shouldn't I try the experiment, and see how it may be totravel a short way through the world in a smock-frock?' I'm given towhims, you see, and, moreover, it will be a droll thing for me toappear, clad like you, at the house where I'm expected to-night. Ha! Howmy lord will stare to see me come in! In fine, my good man, I proposethat we shall exchange clothes, and go on our different ways!"


  "You mean that, for the clothes I have on, you would give me those youwear now?" cried Dick, astonished and amused.

  "Precisely, with the cane and snuff-box thrown into the bargain."

  "But don't you know you can buy in five minutes a suit of clothes likemine, for a hundredth part of the worth of all you offer me?"

  "Yes, I know that, of course. But, you see, it would attract attention,my buying such clothes--"

  "Oh, for that matter, I can buy them for you."

  "No, for then they would either be new, in which case my--ah--disguisewould be easier seen through; or they would be second-hand, and then Godknows who might have worn them in the past! Besides, I can afford to payfor my whims, and it pleases me to think that you, too, who resemble meso much, would have the benefit of my clothes, as I should have ofyours. Come! Or, rather, wait till I pay in advance for my room, whichI'll occupy but half an hour; then I'll take you to it; we can changeimmediately, and go forth to see how differently the world will look atus."

  Convinced, at last, that it was no insane person by whom he should beprofiting, Dick saw no reason for interposing further objections;indeed, those already put had been offered merely to satisfy his naturalscruples against being on the better side of so uneven a bargain, forthe idea of swaggering awhile in costly raiment had instantly attractedhim. In less than an hour thereafter, he issued from the inn, fully cladas a gentleman, while his whimsical acquaintance, slinking out asunobserved as Dick had slunk in, tipped him a friendly farewell and madeoff in the opposite direction, shouldering the portmanteau as if he werea hired porter.

  As Dick strutted along the busy street, glancing at the shop-windows,and in turn glanced at by more than one pair of demure eyes, he suddenlybethought himself that a gentleman in velvet and lace, with silkstockings and gold buckles, but without a penny in pocket or inprospect, was a somewhat anomalous personage. Moreover, the county townsand country villages were a field far less worth shining in as agentleman than were certain fields he now began to think he might soonvisit.

  He therefore visited certain dealers in the town, and by dinner-time hewas minus the gold-headed cane and a gold-mounted snuff-box, but was thericher by a plainer snuff-box; some changes of linen, underclothes,neck-cloths, and handkerchiefs; a bag in which to carry all hismovables; and a suit of clothes. He chose the last with a view to thefit only, regardless of the fact that it was a gamekeeper's costume. Atanother inn than the one where he had met the stranger, Dick doffed hisfine feathers, put on the gamekeeper's suit, and dined, paying for hisdinner with some money he had over from the proceeds of the cane andsnuff-box.

  In the afternoon, carrying his bag of clothes slung by a stick over hisshoulder, he left Taunton behind, presently abandoned the road that wentnorthward to Bridgewater, and proceeded northeastward, traversingcharming vales, and arriving at night at a village about half-waybetween Taunton and Glastonbury. His pack of cards earned his supper andbed, both in the house of a simple-minded blacksmith.

  The next day he passed through Glastonbury, pausing to indulge hisimagination before the ruined abbey in which Kings Arthur and Edgar wereburied, as well as before the rotting cross in the town's centre, andbefore the Tor of St. Michael on the hill northeast. He fed nothing buthis imagination at this place, and hastened on to Wells, where he stayedhis stomach further while admiring the magnificent west front of theGothic Cathedral, the high square tower and ornate exterior of St.Cuthbert's Church, and the other fine old buildings.

  At the inn, he found, among other travellers, a party of lesser gentryon whose hands time hung heavily, their business being finished, butthemselves being unwilling to set forth on a Friday. Dick sooningratiated himself with these gentlemen, whose thick and empty headswere already astray with punch, wine, and ale; and he was made not onlya sharer of their good cheer, but the sole occupant of the bed of onewhom he tried to assist thither but who persisted in sleeping on thefloor instead.

  Leaving early the next morning, ere his benefactors were awake to ejecthim as some presuming plebeian who had availed himself of theirdrunkenness, Dick proceeded northeastward towards Bath, his eyesrejoicing in the beauty of the Mendip hills and the surrounding country.

  When he had reached a spot where a short stretch of road before him hada delightfully secluded appearance, by reason of the trees thatoverarched it, and the varied slopes that rose gently on either hand,those on the left extending in a series of shapely hills to a farwestern horizon, he began to think of breakfast. A little way ahead, avine-grown wall, broken by high gate-posts, marked the roadside boundaryof a small, sloping park, belonging to a country-seat whose towers andchimneys rose among the trees some distance within. As Dick lay down hisbag to rest, there came from a small door in the wall a gamekeeper, whoimmediately raised the fowling-piece he carried, and fired at a hawkthat circled over a copse at Dick's right. The shot missed, and thegamekeeper reloaded. But when he was ready for a second shot, heshouldered his gun, evidently thinking the bird out of range, althoughit remained over the copse.

  "I'll bring that bird down for you, if you let me," called out Dick, onthe impulse of the moment, just as if he had been in his own country.

  In reply, the gamekeeper stared in amazement. Dick repeated his offer.Then the gamekeeper found words, and wrathfully ordered Dick from thepremises, calling him a vagabond, a poacher, and worse. Dick was aboutto close the fellow's mouth with a blow, when a loud voice, one thatshifted between a bellow and a whine, came from the direction of thegreat gate:

  "What's amiss, Perkins? Hold the damned rascal! I'll make a jailbird ofhim, that I will! What is it, Perkins? Highway robbery? I'll have himup, the next assizes!"

  By this time, the speaker, having got out of a coach just as it wasbeing driven through the gate, had come up to where Dick and thegamekeeper stood. He was a large, pot-bellied man, with coarse features,red face, and bloodshot eyes; a man of about forty, showing in hismovements a disability due to a dissolute life, and dressed with arichness that did not avail to soften the impression of grossness heproduced.

  "The rascal had the impudence of offering to shoot that hawk, sir," saidthe gamekeeper, looking wroth at the outrage.

  "What hawk?" queried the threatening gentleman, looking, and presentlysighting the only one in view. "That hawk? Odd's life! If the rogue canshoot that hawk at this distance, I'm his humble servant, that I am! Andlet him only speak, and the place of under-keeper shall be his, damn metwice over if it sha'n't! D'ye hear that, rascal?"

  Philosophically ignoring the last word, Dick replied, "If Mr. Perkinswill hand me the gun, I'll show you how we shoot in" (he was going tosay "America," but checked himself) "the county I came from."

  "Give him the gun, Perkins, give him the gun!" ordered the gentleman,eagerly, responding to anything that appealed to his love of shooting,and already preparing to jeer in case of Dick's failure.

  Dick took the gun, aimed carefully, fired; the bird fell into the copse.Whereupon the gentleman, forgetting former threats, impulsivelyapplauded, pronounced Dick a marvel, and, taking it from his garb thathe was a gamekeeper, began a brief catechising that resulted in Dick'sbeing forthwith installed as Mr. Perkins's assistant, in a lodge at thefarther end of Mr. Bullcott's woods,--for Bullcott was the name of thecountry squire whose favor Dick's marksmanship had so quickly won.Dick's face, and the straight account of himself that he had invented onthe spot, served in lieu of a written "character" with the impulsive andunthinking Squire Bullcott; as subsequently his adaptiveness, quicknessof perception, and conciliating manner enabled him to acquire Perkins'stolerance, and to learn the duties of his post so soon that no onediscovered he had never filled a similar one before.

  In this situation Dick spent the rest of February, all of March, andgreat part of April; having little company other than that of Perkinsand the dogs; rarely seeing his master, who made frequent journeys fromhome; and not once beholding the Squire's wife, who, said Perkins, wasusually ailing and mostly kept her room. He might have had th
e smiles ofany of the maid-servants of Bullcott Hall, but he would never acceptamatory favors from low sources as a supposed equal, though he mightwillingly enough, in his own proper character of gentleman, condescendon occasion to kiss a handsome wench.

  One sweet, blossomy day in April, while following the course of a littlerivulet, Dick emerged from the woods to a field at whose farther end wasa barn, before which stood a large wagon whence a party of strollingplayers were moving their accessories into the building, for the purposeof giving a series of performances there. By the brookside, at a placehidden from her fellow Thespians by some bushes, knelt one of the womenof the company, a rather pretty girl, washing clothes. Standing nearthis girl, with his back towards Dick, was a man who seemed, from hisattitude and gestures, to be pressing on her some sort of invitation,which she apparently chose to ignore. This man presently stooped by herside, and made to put his arms around her, whereupon she gave him avigorous slap in the face with the wet undergarment she then held.

  The man persisting in his attempt to embrace her, and the girlresisting without fear but with repugnance, Dick ran forward, cuffed theman on the side of the head, and announced the intention of throwing himinto the brook if he did not immediately let go the lady. The man letgo, but only in order to spring to his feet and turn, with clenchedfists, upon Dick, disclosing to the latter the furious face of SquireBullcott.

  The Squire, whose wrath instantly doubled upon his seeing that hisinterfering assailant was his own under gamekeeper, could only roar,sputter, and whine, incoherently, and look as if about to explode. Hewas deterred from instantly laying hands on Dick by the attitude ofdefence into which the latter had promptly thrown himself. When Mr.Bullcott had used up his breath in calling Dick vile names, andthreatening him with everything from a cudgel to a gibbet, Dickexplained that he could not stand by and see any man force his caresseson a lady against her will.

  "Lady!" bellowed the Squire. "Why, she's a miserable ---- of a vagabondplay-actress! Why, you fool, I'll warrant she can't begin to count themen who have had her!"

  "I don't stand up for the woman's virtue," said Dick. "I know nothingabout that." He perceived that a man who would ever testify with dueeffect to the virtue of a good woman, must not assert, by oath orblows, a belief in that of a bad or doubtful woman. "But every woman hasthe right to say who sha'n't have her favors," he went on, "and thatgirl was resolved you shouldn't have hers!"

  "Well, by God, we'll see! I'll have the whole rabble locked up, I will!They shan't give any of their nasty plays where I have jurisdiction!I'll drive them off, and you, too! No, I won't, I'll have you up at theassizes. I'll see you hanged for murderous assault; that I will!"

  With which, the girl having already fled to her comrades, and voicesbeing heard to approach, the worthy magistrate plunged into cover of thewoods in one direction, while Dick sought similar concealment inanother.

  Knowing that time had come to resume his travels, Dick hastened to hislodge, and there, the better to avoid arrest on the Squire's order, heput on the fine suit given him by the strange gentleman at Taunton. Withall his other clothes in his bag, he then started for the road. As hewas passing through the woods, he first heard and then saw Mr. Perkinsleading towards the abandoned lodge a pair of ugly fellows armed withbludgeons. Unseen by this party, Dick made a detour that led himeventually to the road, but to a part thereof that necessitated hispassing the great gate of the Hall in order to continue his journeynorthward.

  As he was musing on the peculiar appearance he must make in the road,that of a gaily dressed gentleman travelling afoot and carrying a bag,he saw Squire Bullcott come forth on horseback, attended by twostalwart, raw-looking servants. The Squire stared at him, inbewilderment, a moment, then cried out to his servants:

  "'Tis the very same! The same damned rogue! I know the rascal in spiteof his clothes! Stop him, Curry, and hold him fast! Down off yourhorses, both of you, or he'll get safe away!"

  "I dare you to stop me now!" cried Dick, going straight up to Bullcottand looking him in the face. "I'm a gentleman, and one of your betters,though I did amuse myself by playing gamekeeper to an ignorant brute!"

  The Squire glared for a moment in speechless fury, and then, gatheringbreath and saliva, spat with great force in Dick's face.

  The two servants were now dismounted. Mr. Bullcott, enraged to the pointof preferring immediate revenge rather than the slow operation of thelaw, ordered them to use their whips on Dick. They fell upon himtogether, at the moment when he was blinded by the handkerchief withwhich he had instantly begun to cleanse his visage of Bullcott'sdisgusting marks.

  Maddened by the blows that rained upon his face, neck, arms, andwrists, Dick struck out wildly at his brawny assailants. At a certainviolent rush on his part, they fell back. The Squire seized that momentas an opportune one for riding his horse at Dick, and the latter,leaping aside to avoid the heavy hoofs, tripped on a stone and fell flatin the road, knocking the breath out of his body.

  Bullcott now, leaning from his horse, wielded his own whip on Dick'shead and back, accompanying the castigation with vengeful oaths and vileepithets. Then, ordering his men to bestow each a final kick on theprostrate body, the worthy gentleman rode off about his business, which,it eventually appeared, was to cause the ejection of the strollingplayers from the barn before which their merry-andrew had already begunto collect a crowd around his wagon.

  Kicked into insensibility, Dick was at last abandoned by the twoservants, and he lay in the road until, fifteen minutes later, therecame up from the direction of Wells a post-chaise, from which ahearty-looking young gentleman, having ordered the postilion to stop,got out for the sole purpose of examining the prostrate body in the way.He stooped beside Dick, called his valet to bring some brandy, andgently raised Dick's head.

  "Who is it?" murmured Dick, summoned out of a wild and painful dream,and resting his blue eyes on the rubicund, cheerful, somewhat impudentface of the young gentleman.

  "Who is it?" repeated the latter, blithely. "That's a good one! Here's agentleman who has fallen among thieves and been left half dead, and thefirst thing he wants of the Good Samaritan is to know who the GoodSamaritan is! Swallow this brandy, sir, and the Good Samaritan willintroduce himself."

  "You are certainly the Good Samaritan," moaned Dick, after a revivinggulp from the flask held by the valet; "but I haven't fallen amongthieves. I fell in only with the most damned boorish scoundrel that everdisgraced the name of gentleman, and I swear I won't rest till I've paidhim back what he and his rascal menials did me here, blow for blow, andkick for kick."

  "Quite right!" said the other, gaily. "But, in the meantime, what is tobe done for you? Can I take you to your house? Do you live hereabouts?"

  "No, my home is--quite--far--away," replied Dick, relapsing into adreamy condition.

  The other gently shook him back to full consciousness. "Then where may Itake you? Whither were you bound? Towards Bath?"

  "Yes, towards Bath," said Dick, on a moment's impulse.

  "Well, by George, that's fortunate! You shall be my travellingcompanion the rest of the way. You don't seem to have your own coach athand, or any of your servants."

  "You are right. I have no coach at hand--or any servants. I have onlythe bag in the ditch yonder. You are very kind! I don't like tointrude."

  "Nonsense, my dear sir! 'Tis I who have intruded on your slumbers here.You'll be company for me on the journey. 'Fore gad, I was dead of ennui,for some one to talk to, when we came upon you! Get the gentleman's bag,Wilkins. I must say, sir, your own servant must be a rascal, to havedropped your things and ridden off as he did, when you were attacked."

  Dick saw no reason to correct the impression produced, by his clothesand other circumstances, on the cordial young gentleman, and he silentlylet himself be helped into the chaise, which, his bag having been stowedaway and his rescuers having got in, at once started off towards Bath.

  Dick gave no more account of himself, beyond announcing his name and thefact that
he had recently come from travels abroad, than to say that hehad been attacked by the servants of a gentleman whose motive waspersonal revenge, and left as the Good Samaritan had found him. The GoodSamaritan turned out to be Lord George Winston, who was given toletting his private coaches and horses lie idle, and to travelling inhis present modest fashion, in order that he might encounter the moreamusing people and incidents. He was now hastening, in quest of society,back from his Devonshire estate, whither he had recently hastened inquest of solitude. He was an exceedingly good-natured, self-satisfied,talkative youth, one of those happily constituted persons who are noteven their own enemies. Yet he was a man of exceeding animation and wit,as he showed by countless little jests with which he enlivened the talkhe rattled off to Dick on the journey.

  Dick allowed most of the conversation to his lordship, whichcircumstance made so agreeable an impression on the latter, that, onlearning Dick had no engagements, he gave an imperative invitation to behis guest in Bath for a few days, and afterward to bear him company toLondon. Dick, philosophically accepting, thus saw his immediate futurepaved with roses in advance, ere the increasing bustle of convergingroads, the sound of the Avon flowing beneath its bridge, and the sightof many roofs and towers told him he was entering the most populous andfashionable pleasure resort in England.

  It was late in the afternoon, when they drove into Bath. The chaiserattled through the fine streets of splendid stone houses, its own noisemingling with that of grand coaches and other conveyances. On everyside were finely dressed people, strutting with an air of consequence,while Dick got a glimpse of a fair face, more or less genuine in color,in many a carriage and chair. The chaise let out its passengers at theThree Tuns, where Lord George engaged rooms for the night, and whereDick carefully repaired all damage to his person and attire, donnedfresh linen, had his hair powdered by a man whom Lord George had causedto be summoned, dined with his gay companion, and sauntered forth afootwith him at evening, glowing with the newly stimulated love of pleasure.

  At the door of the Pelican Inn, Lord George introduced Dick to a pompousbut good-natured little gentleman named Boswell, who greeted my lordobsequiously but tarried only so long as to mention that he was on hisway to meet Doctor Johnson at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Thrale.

  "Does he mean the great Doctor Johnson, the author?" asked Dick, lookingback after him with curiosity.

  "Yes," said Lord George; "he is a harmless, conceited Scotchman thatcomes to town a few weeks every year and follows at the heels ofJohnson, who treats him as if he were the spaniel he is. 'Tis amusing toconsort now and then with those writing fellows, if you can endure theirvanity. As for Johnson, he says a good thing sometimes, and might begood company but for his sweating and grunting, his dirty linen and hisbeastly way of eating, and his desire of doing all the talking himself."

  They went to the Assembly Rooms, where his lordship introduced Dick tonumerous people of both sexes and then sat down to cards; while Dicklooked on, or walked about among the promenaders, the gay talkers, andthe chatting tea-drinkers, and thought he was in a kind of paradise.

  The next day Lord George moved with his guest to a floor in a fine houseon the South Parade, where there was comparative quiet from the noise ofwheels. There established, Dick, as he listened to the bells of theAbbey church,--which sound carried to him a mental vision of thevenerable Cathedral itself, with its fine western front and itscountless windows,--resolved that he would ever after wear the clothesof a gentleman, as his birth and mind entitled him to do; that hisfuture way should lie amidst fine surroundings; that he shouldthereafter contrive to sip only of the honey of this world.

  The two young gentlemen went early to the pump-room; took the hot waterbath in a great tank overlooked by the pump-room windows, in companywith other perspiring folk, who did not look at their best,--particularly the ladies in their brown linen jackets and petticoats andtheir chip hats with handkerchiefs affixed. Then, having dressed andpartaken of the water served by the pumper in the bar, Lord George andDick--or rather Mr. Wetheral, for he had now determined to complete thetransformation that his change of clothes had begun--strolled on theNorth Parade; after which his lordship played a game of billiards withan acquaintance he met, while Dick stole away in quest of a certain kindof shop. This excursion was fruitful, and when Mr. Wetheral rejoined hisfriend at the Coffee House his shoes had silver buckles instead of goldones, and a small quantity of coin rattled in his previously silentpocket. For Dick, having watched the cards awhile on the precedingnight, had made up his mind to try a fling at fortune, himself.

  Accordingly, when they went to the Rooms that night, it was Mr. Wetheralthat played, and Lord George that sought diversion otherwise, joiningthe dancers, for this was one of the two weekly ball-nights. Wetheralhad beginner's luck, of course, and when he retired to bed at twelve hispockets jingled with an effect almost as pleasant to his ears as that ofthe Abbey bells, and he saw himself prospectively the possessor of somesplendid house in the Circus or in Prince's Row.

  He imagined, of course, a lovely sharer of the contemplated splendor,but this fancy did not take a permanent shape in his mind's eye;sometimes it wore the face of Catherine de St. Valier; then this imagegave way to a kind of collective impression of the many pretty faces hehad already seen in Bath. For so great a change had come in hissurroundings and desires, that Catherine and her snowy Quebec had fadedinto a far past and seemed at an immeasurable distance. Reproach him nottoo severely! He was nineteen, in England, in spring, as if freshly borninto a new world that appeared all pleasure and beauty; moreover, thepast five months had been so crowded with events and changes that theytrailed out behind him like years instead of months.

  His luck at cards continuing, and with it his determination to movethereafter in polite life, Mr. Wetheral set about acquiring certainaccomplishments necessary to his purpose. There was a fop among LordGeorge's acquaintance, given to telling laughable stories, partly inFrench. Of this gentleman's Coffee House audience, Dick was the only onewho could not laugh uproariously at these Gallic passages. He thereuponresolved to learn French, as well as to acquire the more fashionablestyles of dancing, and to improve what rudiments of fencing had beenimparted to him by old Tom MacAlister. Thus he invested a good part ofhis nightly winnings in clandestine lessons, taken while Lord George wasmaking visits, or off with some pleasure-seeking party to SpringGardens, or elsewhere engaged.

  Wetheral supplemented his French and fencing lessons with privatepractice in his rooms, or in some solitary part of the grove by theAvon, or of King's Mead Fields, or elsewhere. His natural readiness andhis fierce application soon enabled him to read and write easy Frenchpassably well; but when he came to speak in that language to the foppishlittle master of ceremonies at the Rooms, he brought confusion onhimself. He made a better show at dancing, though; and a few trials ofthe foils with Lord George, on a rainy day, displayed a promise of earlyability to handle a sword in the approved fashion.

  One evening in the second week of May, Lord George announced his wish ofstarting for London on the morrow, as the fashionable season at Bathwould soon be over. Dick had no sorrow at this, for he had resolved tocontinue in London his present way of life, by means of the cards and bywhatever other resources he might find at hand. He was quite ready forfresh fields, as long as they were of the flowery kind. Desiring,though, a last survey of the field he was about to leave, Dick salliedforth alone that night for the Rooms, Lord George having to remain athis lodgings to write some letters he had postponed to the last moment.

  Just as Mr. Wetheral was entering the ballroom, during a cessation ofdancing, and was felicitating himself on the flattering salutations hegot from acquaintances obtained through Lord George,--and several ofthese greetings came with melting smiles from fair faces,--he heard avoice at his side cry out:

  "Why, by God, 'tis the rascal gamekeeper masquerading as a gentleman!"

  Dick recognized the voice, now bellow and now whimper, ere even heturned, like a man shot, and saw the
face. At sight of the gross,insolent visage of Squire Bullcott, the memory of the horse-whippingdrove away every other consideration, and Dick, thinking only ofrevenge, not of his own possible discomfiture, replied, hotly:

  "So 'tis you, Bully Bullcott! I intended to return and pay off my score,but kind Providence has saved me the trouble by sending you to Bath.Wait until I meet you in the street, sir!"

  "What, you dog!" cried the Squire, whose corpulent body was dressed asif it were the elegant figure of a beau of twenty-five. "Why, hear thecur talk, will you that! The low, dirty, mongrel cur, that came starvingalong the road, with tongue hanging out and ne'er a kennel to sleep in;and that I took in and made a gamekeeper of! How in the name of God heever came by those clothes he has on, I know not. But you sha'n't playany of your tricks here, you impostor! I denounce this rascal,gentlemen! He's not what he pretends to be!"

  "Gentlemen," said Dick, to the crowd that had quickly assembled, "thereare many of you here who know me--"

  "If there be," said Bullcott, cutting Dick's speech short, "how longhave you known him? Hey? And is there any gentleman here that doesn'tknow me?" From the manner in which the Squire glared around, and that ofthe gentlemen who amiably nodded in confirmation, it was plain thatSquire Bullcott was a very well-known person at Bath; and from othertokens it was equally plain that Dick's acquaintances were mentallyrecalling that the time since they had first met him was indeed short."The fellow is a gamekeeper, I say! A common servant, that I paid wagesto, a month ago, and that my footmen drove off my place, as they shalldrive him out of these Rooms now!" Whereat he strode through the crowd,which opened for him with the deference due to wealth, and at the doorhe called out to his servants, who were waiting with his coach.

  Before Mr. Wetheral, who looked in perplexity from one acquaintance toanother, and saw each man fall slightly back or look aside, could arriveat any course of action, he found himself face to face with the twolow-browed fellows who had obeyed the Squire's behest on a formermemorable occasion. Ere he was fully sensible of their intention, he wasgrasped at neck and arm, and the next instant he was being hustledswiftly to the street. Resisting blindly, and as the nether part of hisperson came considerably in the rear in this rapid exit, he made aludicrous appearance, as he knew from the shout of laughter thatfollowed him,--laughter in which, to his unutterable chagrin, the voicesof the ladies mingled, for they had pushed forward among the gentlemenwho had first hastened to the scene.

  Once outside, Dick's two burly captors flung him forward into thestreet, where he landed on all fours in mire and refuse.

  A crowd of servants and rabble quickly gathered around, shouting withglee. Dick's mood, when he rose, bruised and soiled, was to return anddo battle with the whole assembly in the Rooms. But he knew the futilityof such heroic measures, and that the present was no time in which toseek retaliation. He contented himself, therefore, with what effectivelunges were necessary in order to break through the street crowd. Havingachieved a passage in one fierce dash, he ran on, at a pace that soonended pursuit, until he reached his lodgings. There he made himselfpresentable before joining Lord George, to whom he said nothing of thenight's occurrence.

  Their early departure, the next morning, alone prevented his lordshipfrom hearing the news that was now all over Bath; and Dick felt adecided relief when he saw the city receding in the morning sunshinewhile the post-chaise they had taken was bowling merrily towardsWiltshire. An uneventful day, diversified by many stops for refreshment,brought them late in the afternoon to Marlboro, where Dick had time,before nightfall, to ascend by the winding path the famous mount, and tomeditate in the grotto where Thomson had composed "The Seasons," as wellas to stroll through the charming grounds stretching at the rear of theinn to the Kennet.

  As the Bath stage-coach for London drove up, Dick looked furtively fromthe inn window to see if it should let out any of those who hadwitnessed his humiliation the previous night. Lord George, glancing fromthe same window, suddenly exclaimed, "Egad, there's a fine woman!"

  Following his lordship's gaze, Dick beheld a slender and graceful ladyemerging from a private coach. Her face, round, soft, childlike, withclear and gentle blue eyes, instantly captivated Dick. He watched herwhile she gave hasty directions to her coachman, and while she steppedquickly and with downcast look, as if wishing to avoid observation, tothe inn. She was accompanied by another lady, also quite handsome, butof a somewhat severe and defiant countenance.

  Having entered the inn, the two ladies were seen no more while Dick andLord George remained at Marlboro, although these candid admirers ofbeauty delayed their departure thence till the next day was faradvanced. With sighs of disappointment, they then resumed their journey,and passed through the forest and on to Hungerford, where they dined andtarried awhile in the vain hope that yet the lady of the private coachmight overtake them.

  Continuing in disappointment, they proceeded into Berkshire and alongthe pleasant Kennet to Speenhamland, which, as all the world knows, isbut the northern part of Newbury, the Kennet flowing between under astone bridge. They had no sooner made themselves comfortable in the lasttwo available rooms at the Pelican Inn, than Wetheral happened to lookout into the corridor and see, accidentally glancing from the oppositechamber at the same moment, the beautiful lady of the private coach.